


I Gift to You

by XxTheDarkLordxX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco is a sweatheart, Drarry, Fluff, Insults shrouded in love, Limited Angst, M/M, Snippets from years 1-8, anonymous gift giving, this was a prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 03:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12762672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTheDarkLordxX/pseuds/XxTheDarkLordxX
Summary: Draco refuses to see giving Potter anonymous gifts as a nice thing to do. This was just one moment of weakness. That's all it was.So why does it last eight years? Why does the pleased glint to green eyes make him continue to send them? More importantly, why does the school owl keep following him?





	I Gift to You

**Author's Note:**

> Several things. Number one: this is a prompt. I will include that right now. 'Draco POV, he can't help buying little anonymous gifts for Harry. Harry eventually figures it out... Please and thank you. Good luck defeating your writers block.' 
> 
> Number two: As the prompt said, I am having a block. I have half of the next chapter for I Do What I Must done. It's driving me fucking nuts. I can't seem to wrap my head around where this chapter needs to go. I don't know. If anyone wants to shoot me a message, let me know. I don't mind trying to talk it out. My email is in the bio.
> 
> Warning- I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. All rights to the characters are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. The only thing is mine is the way I spin the story. It is for entertainment only and not part of the official story line.

                The first time it happened, Draco swore it was just a slip-up. He wouldn’t do it again. Nope. Potter certainly didn’t deserve his _generosity_. Because that was exactly what this was. People honestly didn’t give him enough credit when it came to being nice.

                It was just that the sight of Potter in glasses that weren’t fitting his face, the horribly old style, the fact that they were fading in colour and just not aesthetically pleasing, had him wanting to rectify the travesty immediately. It wasn’t because he _cared_ or anything. Nope. This was doing everyone else a favour. _Really._ It benefited society by no one having to see Potter's hideous specs.

                Draco timed it perfectly. He knew that Potter tended to spend longer eating than everyone else. Certainly, longer than Weasley. Weasley inhaled food quicker than he did air. So, when Potter was about to leave for his morning class, Draco signalled the school owl that he had trained to wait for his mark. It took _weeks_ to train the bloody bird. The only problem was that the bird was now attached to him. Which hadn’t been previously intended. At least the owl had proper taste.

                The brown barn owl swooped down, catching the attention of a few stragglers but otherwise, the notice was limited.

                Confusion was the first expression that Draco could make out. He knew that Potter probably wondered why his snowy owl hadn’t delivered the mail, but clearly he was too curious to _not_ open it. Not exactly the smartest thing to do, but that was just Draco's own suspicious nature coming forward.

                The confusion quickly bled into shock before a genuinely pleased glint appeared in the Potter’s eyes.

                Instructions had been placed in the package, because Draco knew that intelligence was the reason the reckless idiot hadn’t been placed into Ravenclaw. The glasses were charmed to stay on his face until the wearer wished them off. They would mould to the user’s needs, whether the eyesight got worse with age or not. Not to mention, the frames would change to match the user’s outfit, ensuring that they remain elegant at all times. Which was a deal breaker in Draco's opinion.

                Draco’s resolve to allow it to be a brief moment of weakness and a _onetime_ instance shattered at the flush on Potter’s face and a shy grin flickered on his stupidly annoying lips.

                Salazar, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The git wasn’t allowed to make him feel like this. Draco doesn’t _do_ sappy feelings.

                Angrily, Draco made his way towards the entrance, inwardly cursing Potter’s existence. It wasn’t until he almost reached the door that he heard Longbottom speak up.

                “Oh, wow. Those are pretty expensive. Who sent them to you?”

                “No idea.” Potter’s tone was a little awed.

                “The note just says, ‘ _To fix your face, finally’_.”

 

* * *

 

 

                Draco was determined that the second time still be counted as a slip-up. This wasn’t going to be a regular thing. Nope. Not at all. Because that was just silly. Draco doesn’t _do_ nice things for other people. _Especially_ to Potter.

                Unfortunately, the delivery was not as well timed as last year’s gift. The other two members of the Idiotic Trio were still around.

                He watched ~~his~~ the school owl struggle to carry the packages and it caused a twinge of guilt inside of Draco. He couldn’t trust any other owls to do the job, so the bird would have to do it alone.

                When Potter looked to the owl, it was clear that he recognized the bird. The Gryffindor reached out a hand to softly pet the owl before opening the packages with gusto.

                Draco couldn’t hear what was said from where he sat, but he could tell that Potter had gasped. It was the way his eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open slowly. Which was a great reaction so far. He knew that the gift would _mean_ something. Not that he _cared_ about that.

                The silence was killing him. He _needed_ to know what was being said. Draco slowly made to the end of the table, pretending that he was listening to a few of his housemate’s conversations before using that as a reason to go a different route towards the exit.

                Just as he passed, he caught the beginning of Weasley speaking.

                “What is it? Why would someone send you books full of scribbles?”

                Draco rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Scribbles. That one actually hurt.

                “It’s not scribbles, Ron!” Granger corrected. “I think it’s in Parseltongue.”

                “It is,” Potter whispered, fingers running over the title of the first book. _Behind_ _the Wonders of_ _Parseltongue Volume I: The History of the Snake Language and Why it’s a Blessing and Not a Curse._

“Why do you think they sent it?” Weasley asked, eyeing the book warily.

                “To send me a message,” answered Potter, placing the book in his lap, only to pick up the second one. _Behind the Wonders of_ _Parseltongue Volume II: The Astonishing Accomplishments that Parseltongue has Brought to the World._

“What message? Because they think you are Slytherin’s Heir?”

                Draco wasn’t going to even bother coming up with a mental reply for _that_ one.

                “No.” Potter shook his head. “So that I can love all parts of me. Even the ones that are perceived as evil.”

                The insight had Draco fighting off a flush. _That_ was not his intention… not exactly. He just hated the thought of others degrading Potter’s ability just because they don’t understand it. There was nothing wrong with being a Parselmouth. It wasn’t dark, vile or even evil.

                “Does the note say who it’s from?” There was suspicion in Granger’s tone, which had Draco scoffing internally. If he had wanted to harm Potter, he would have. It’s not like Potter even spell checks the gifts. Which was actually pretty moronic, but that was just Draco’s thought on the matter.

                “No, it just says, ‘ _To learn something, for once’_.”

 

* * *

 

   

                The evidence against it being a onetime incident was becoming a reach, even in Draco’s own mind. But that was beside the point.

                So far, this would probably be his worst idea yet. It was getting rather personal… but he couldn’t allow this year to continue with the mass hysteria that everyone walked around with. Not when it was a farce to begin with.

                This time, he chose to have Russet—not that he named the infernal bird—deliver the gift during a nighttime study session the Idiotic Trio were having in the Library.

                When a light scratching drew Potter’s attention to the window next to him, Draco stepped into the shadows of an alcove.

                “Oh, it’s you.” Potter’s voice took a happy turn.

                Draco watched him rip of the packaging and freeze. It was a normal reaction, but he just hoped that Potter wouldn’t become angry.

                News clippings, articles posted in obscure news outlets, court records and even statements made by the accused fell out of Potter's hands and landed on the table.

                He watched Potter’s brow furrow slightly with each passing minute until he was full blown frowning as each parchment was leafed through.

                “Hermione!” Potter whisper yelled as his voice cracked.

                “What? What is it? Oh, your anonymous friend sent you something?” Granger hadn’t looked up from her book on _Medieval Flobberworms and Why They Were the Downfall of Mermish Society,_ as she walked down the aisle.

                “Hermione, can the Wizengamot sentence someone to Azkaban without a trial?”

                That caused Granger to peer up at him in confusion. “No, it violates several laws and is _illegal_.”

                Potter pushed all of the articles harshly as Weasley came around the other side of the table and read over their shoulders.

                “ _Oh,_ ” Granger whispered, blinking rapidly. “This isn’t good.”

                “Black is innocent, isn’t he?” There was a miserable quality to Potter's confused tone, but Draco couldn’t have admitted that he knew from his father that Black truly hadn’t been a Death Eater, without revealing sources.

                “Let me guess,” Weasley began sarcastically. “There’s no signature?”

                “Just a note that says, _‘To provide the proof that has always been there, idiot’_.”

 

* * *

 

 

                Sadly, it wasn’t hard to send Potter his gift this time. Weasley was being pathetically obtuse by thinking Potter would actually put his name in the Goblet. Granger was spending time between the two. All he had to do was wait until he knew she was with Weasley.

                It was a bit risky to send the package outside, due to the chance of being caught, but Draco knew that it was the best time.

                The sound of fluttering wings had caught Potter’s attention as he put up his arm, allowing Russet a perch to land on.

                “Hey you,” Potter teased, gently running his fingers through her feathers before taking the burden from the bird.

                “Feels like a book.”

                Draco rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if Potter liked to state the obvious just to hear himself talk.

                He watched Potter arch a brow as he picked up, _Triwizard Tournament 1410: The Year no one Survived._

                “What a morbid gift,” Potter whispered, aghast, probably wondering why he would be sent a book that mentioned the deaths of all contestants.

                It wasn’t until he began skimming the chapters that Potter let out a happy shout. “They are cycling through old tasks!”

                Honestly, it was sad that Potter hadn’t gone through the history of the Triwizard Tournament. After the Dragons, Draco had recognized the task. It was the _exact_ same, down to the golden eggs as well. It didn’t take a genius to realize what the second one would be if one were to take into account of the history.

                “Oh,” Potter whispered, eyes travelling the pages rapidly. “The egg is speaking in Mermish.” Potter smacked his forehead so hard, Draco wondered if it would leave a dent. Which would probably be an improvement.

                Potter looked to Russet with kind eyes and a soft expression. “Your owner is wonderful.”

                Draco _refused_ to let that fluster him. It was just a truth after all. It was a known fact that Draco was wonderful. Everyone knew it.

                “Not to mention rude,” Potter chided with a small smile as he read the note.

                “ _To give help, Merlin knows you need it.”_

* * *

 

 

               Draco wasn’t sure about this one. He knew he was taking a giant risk by doing anything at all. It was one thing to listen in on his father while home, but it was another to actively go against him. Providing Potter with either gift wasn’t the smartest.

                The timing was horrible but there was nothing Draco could do to change it. It was the only way to guarantee that Potter would be alone when he received them.

                He watched Potter walk down the corridor with a hand curled to his chest, pain on his face and tired eyes that weren’t paying attention to anything. Draco knew that Umbridge had given the idiot detention again.

                A small hoot from Russet had Potter looking up, a smile lighting up his features.

                “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

                The bird was once again struggling under the weight, but Potter was quick to help. He led the bird over to a bench against the wall before opening the package.

                Potter’s brows pinched harshly as he picked up a book. “ _Prophecies and Why They Aren’t Meant to be Taken at Face Value_.”

                “Huh.” Potter scratched the side of his head. “Cryptic but I suppose I’ll keep it in mind.”

                When Potter picked up the second gift, a vial, a soft expression appeared on his face and it had Draco’s breath catching. Draco had to force himself not to look away.

                “It’s a healing salve.” Potter’s tone was pleased but shy as he unscrewed the cap before placing it on the back of his bleeding hand. “I wish I could thank your owner.”

                The overheard gratitude was enough for Draco.

                A snort had Draco arching a brow.

_"To keep you safe, since you aren’t doing a good enough job_.”

                “They sure are blunt.” There was a pause as Potter traced the note gently. “But that’s a refreshing change from secrecy.”

 

* * *

 

 

                Perhaps Draco was feeling petty. Or his pride was wounded. Either one worked. He watched Potter’s face fall as he opened the gift from across the Great Hall.

                Draco didn’t spare a look after that. He already knew that the Gryffindor was sorry but tell that to his disfigured body that would never look the same.

                _Dark Spells and Why Morons Shouldn’t Use them Without the Knowledge Behind it._

No note had been attached, it was Draco’s way of voicing his displeasure but also because he hadn’t been sure what to say. He knew that the blame wasn’t solely on Potter but there had been a drastic difference between the two of them that day.

                He stabbed his mashed potatoes heavily before shoving them to the side. His appetite had long ago disappeared.

 

* * *

 

 

                It was the first year that Draco had no idea how his gift would be perceived. He wasn’t there to witness it and had no idea where Potter was even at. It had taken quite a bit of Dark Magic to be able to get his owl to sense his previous gifts. He was counting on Potter being sentimental enough to have taken at least one of them with him on whatever expedition the moron was doing.

                As much as it would be nice having Potter at Hogwarts for their last year, he knew that fighting the Dark Lord was preferable. Hogwarts wasn’t home anymore. Not with the Carrows, not with the violence or the curses. Not with scared children or irresponsible teachers. It wasn’t the Hogwarts Potter knew nor was it the Hogwarts that this place deserved.

                Draco walked the corridors, pointedly ignoring the younger students sneaking out of the Great Hall. Today was mandatory ‘training’ with the Carrows. All older students were to show that they were capable of performing two of the Unforgivable Curses. Their targets were the younger students.

                It had been difficult thinking of something that he could offer Potter, what do you get someone that is risking their life to protect the rest of the world? How do you offer something meaningful when life itself could be taken at any given time? What kind of gift is there to provide?

                In the end, he had sent numerous books on counteracting Dark Magic, what to do if one is involved in a Dark ritual and methods on surviving in the unknown. Charms to help against minimal to mild curses, and even objects to ward off intruders had been sent along as well. His gift might have been seen as overkill, but the message was clear, same as the note tied to Russet.

               _Don’t die, you bumbling moron._

                Not just for the rest of the world, or even because someone needed to fight against the Dark Lord. No. Draco needed Potter alive for his own relief. He wanted the Potter to live because it was only fair, he shouldn’t have to live his life only to die. What kind of shite was that?

                “Don’t die, Potter,” Draco whispered before straightening up at the sound of footsteps.

                “Where did those students go? Did you see them escape?”

                “No.” Draco informed Alecto as he turned around, head straightening, lie easily falling from his mouth. “You might want to try Zabini’s sector.”

 

* * *

 

 

                It was the last time. Draco knew that he couldn’t keep doing this. Not with the way things had played out. Not with the way his emotions were already too invested. Because if he didn’t get control of himself, then he would be spending the rest of his bloody life sending Potter gifts.

                Draco had always thought that sending Potter things had been difficult but none of them would hurt as badly as this one.

                He made his way to the Owlery, timing it enough that he knew Potter had already left. Draco knew he liked to visit the owls, probably missing his own snowy one. A pang filled Draco at the thought of Russet dying as Hedwig had.

                Right as he reached the door, a flash near his peripheral vision had him pausing. Despite not seeing anything of concrete, he couldn’t help but feel as if he was being watched. But time was of the essence, so he squared his shoulders and made his way inside.

                The excited hoot Russet released at the sight of him had Draco smiling softly. He watched her jump from one foot to the next before flying straight to him.

                “Hey, beautiful,” Draco cooed, running his fingers along the top of her head. “You just saw me yesterday, you can’t have missed me that much.”

                She gave him a reproachful look before nipping his finger affectionately.

                Draco sighed heavily, trying to work up the courage that would be needed. “When I trained you, I always thought that our partnership would be for the one time. But apparently, I have no self-control.” He shook his head ruefully at the way his eleven-year-old self had acted.  

                “I didn’t think I would grow attached to you.” If an owl could be smug, he knew that Russet was. The bloody self-righteous bird. “But I did. You are definitely smarter than other owls but also far too kind to be associated as mine.” He held up a hand when she hooted indignantly.

                “But that’s not the point. You see, I thought long and hard about what my final gift should be.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I know he misses his owl, it’s easy to tell by the way he stops here to visit. He has a liking for you, so I know that my gift will be perceived well.”

                A sad hoot had him peering into equally sad brown eyes. “He’ll be able to give you the kindness that I can’t.” When her beak opened but no sound came out, Draco was positive his heart broke. “I already made up the note. I just need to tie it to you and then… and then say goodbye.” His voice had cracked a little on the last word. It shouldn’t be affecting him so much, but Russet was the only thing that was normal anymore, the only constant in his life. Giving up his owl would be giving up a part of himself but… that was alright, right?

                Draco blinked rapidly as he tied the note to Russet’s leg. He couldn’t meet her eyes as he touched her feathers. “You’ll be alright. Potter will take care of you.” That much he knew. He thrusted his arm a little in the air until she left his arm in an indignant cry.

                He walked to the wall, not able to watch Russet fly away. Draco tilted his head until he could rest it firmly against the brick of the owlery, eyes closed tightly.

                It took several moments before he realized that Russet’s wings hadn’t flapped for long. Her movement wasn’t still heard.

                Draco opened his eyes and froze at the sight of Potter in the doorway, eyes peering softly at him and Russet sitting proudly on his shoulder.

                “You would give me her?” Potter asked, breath a shaky whisper and hands trembling minutely.

                “I’m not—it’s not—” He bit his lip, unsure if he could lie his way out of this.

                Potter shook his head, stalling anything Draco could say.

                “I figured out it was you a few years ago.”

                If Draco’s head wasn’t already close to the wall, he would have jerked it in surprise.

                The way Potter was standing made Draco think that he was nervous.

                “I thought that it might have been you during my fifth year. Who else would insult me, you know? But it wasn’t until our sixth year that I _knew_. I really wanted to talk to you about it, but I ruined that with the bathroom incident. And you’ve got to _know_ that I didn’t know what that spell would do. I would have _never_ used something like that. I would—”

                Draco raised a hand to interrupt the already long speech. “I know, Potter. _I know_. I wasn’t innocent either. I was angry at you for so long that I didn’t realize that you made it all _real_. What I was doing held consequences. You were one of those consequences. I couldn’t keep going as I was, something had to give. Unfortunately, that was me. I have accepted this and I don’t hold it against you.”

                “You found me after that anyway. Even after I hurt you,” Potter whispered, eyes roaming. “You sent me your owl and it was a remembrance of what was here. It was a reminder that while I was drowning in responsibility, that reality was still waiting for me. That there really was an exit at the end of the tunnel of shite that my life was turning into.”

                There was a pause as Potter grinned ruefully. “ _Don’t die_. What a morbid note but a demand nonetheless. I’m still here, I’m still breathing.”

                Draco wasn’t sure what to say. The realm of possibilities had passed quite some time ago. It was turning into a conversation that he had _never_ imagined could happen.

                “Thank you,” whispered Potter, eyes being far kinder than Draco deserved to witness. “I’m not sure about the reason behind these gifts.” Draco looked down at his hands, not willing to own up to anything.

                “I know what I would _like_ for it to all mean.” The sound of his footsteps coming closer had Draco’s throat constricting.

                “But Malfoy, I _can’t_ accept this last gift.”

                Draco snapped his head up, eyes narrowing angrily.

                “I can’t take your owl from you.” Potter lifted up the note gently. “ _For you_.” The man whispered softly. “I have had seven years of gifts from you but haven’t returned the favour. I think that’s pretty rude of me, don’t you?”

                There was a teasing glint to the Potter’s eyes and that was the only thing keeping Draco’s sanity.

                “Now that you mention it…”

                Potter grinned widely, taking the last few steps until there were only inches separating them.

                “Your owl belongs with you.” Draco looked through his lashes, gaining confidence from the way Potter swallowed thickly. “I miss Hedwig more than I can begin to explain, but it would hurt more to take this one from you.”

                Draco took a shaky breath when a hand tenderly cupped one of his cheeks.

               “I wouldn’t be opposed to a joint custody,” Draco whispered, meeting green eyes that were smiling in a way that he hadn’t seen since before the war.

                A joyful laugh had Draco’s heart skipping a beat. “I can do that,” Potter whispered, face leaning forward, eyes asking permission.

                Patience wasn’t Draco’s strong suit. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Potter’s neck and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. Belatedly, he realized that Russet had flown away the moment they touched but he was too distracted by Potter’s mouth. It wasn’t calm, sweet or gentle. How could it? Not when this had been building for years. Not when Draco had been imagining this very moment far longer than he would care to admit. Not when Potter was holding him tightly, hands roaming along his back and low mewls leaving his mouth.

                “That was the best gift I have ever been given,” Draco whispered against smiling lips.

                The sound of Russet flying up above them; hooting happily and wings flapping rapidly had Draco sighing happily.

                Who needed gifts when he already had everything he could possibly want?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I totally don't know if this was exactly as my prompt giver wanted but this idea wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. Hopefully you all enjoyed this! I had fun with it. 
> 
> I will try and write some more of the chapter right now. If you have any prompts, send it to me on my email or Tumblr. I am writing a lot of them in the hopes it helps my writer's block. 
> 
> Have patience with me. This is probably more frustrating for me than it is you. It sucks having the will and determination to do something but your mind won't get on the same page. I just hate it. 
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


End file.
